Hart at least looks like he's being sensible. The boss has sent him off on a wild goose chase looking up somewhere with rocky ground, or something, and checking the goddamn five-day weather forecast every two minutes.

Just because of some soppy goddamn poem.

Dav- The boss thinks this poem thingie is telling us when and where the next murder will take place. But that's a bit bonkers, isn't it? I mean, if I was a murderer, I wouldn't go around leaving goddamn notes telling people where to catch me red handed.

I can't quite see my way through this one... This murderer seems weirder than most. I mean, where does the obsession with strange weapons come from? Much easier to put a goddamn bullet through someone's temples. Quicker, quieter, less blood...

That's what I'd do.

Something's seriously not right here. But I can't put my finger on it...

David was out of that hospital like a bullet from a gun!

Damn. That wasn't such a good use of imagery. Reminds me of the goddamn hole blown through his leg.

No, wait, I'm being normal, aren't I? Normal, right... I glare at Harrison. Yep. That's definitely normal. For good measure, I decide to glower for the rest of the day. That should make me seem less jittery...

Not that I am jittery, of course. But having several armed men break into your house during the night and shoot your- your-

Yeah.

'Shut up,' I growl at no one in particular. At least me makes me feel better.

Exercise summary

David Mendrick and his crew are up against a very dangerous serial killer. A serial killer that uses medieval weapons to brutally murder innocent people. One question remains. Will they catch this dangerous criminal? Or will David Mendrick's past corrupt his very soul?

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